160) The path

   160)   The path


When I am on the road grueling
on the prospect of a pathless journey,
sweat and struggle make me
run like a wounded elephant calf,
yes, the young calf, timid,
runs towards a pit
to fall to escape the wrath of the giants
of forest, such sights are familiar to me,
Me ,too the sight of a path is dim and distant,
in the thick forest of multi paths
negotiated by spiraling trees and fences,
the elephant the panther have
hidden behind some bushy plants,
peep out after rocky bombs stop pouring;
you counteract many a thorny bushy vile,
just as a knave wandering too many paths,
or a pig weltering in the slime,
too many paths ill suited,
you swoon to select a path ,
the business of path finding is
laborious and eluding,
I go to the clear pond where
the swan sways boat like and the
grazing cows by the green border
clear my inhibitions,
the path of Nature is the path
Preferred and practiced.